


Under pressure

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: When her holiday stress reaches whole new levels, Belle finds unexpected support of a very delightful kind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 2017 :)

Grateful when at least the fire alarm stops shrieking, Belle lowers the now empty bucket and surveys the blackened mess in her tiny kitchen. It's an understatement to say the least that she won't be preparing any holiday dishes there for the time being… or any food, for that matter.

Realizing that she's wasted hours without actually producing anything and that her stomach protests with hunger, she leaves the apartment above the library and heads for Granny's.

She waves tentatively at Emma and Ashley as they join the queue at the diner behind her, wondering how she's going to tell them that she can't bring the compulsory self-prepared dish to their party on the last evening of the year.

But rather than sitting with her at the empty table she has chosen, the two women go sit somewhere else entirely without sparing her a second glance. Sighing at yet another reminder that she doesn't quite fit in in this tiny town, Belle decides to at least enjoy her burger.

Her mood brightens considerably when Mr. Gold enters the diner a minute later. Despite his reputation, she has spent some time with him lately, enjoying the surprisingly delightful company of the only other person in town who doesn't seem to get really along with anyone else.

He questioningly approaches her and gestures wordlessly at the chair opposite hers. She nods eagerly in response, feeling not nearly as bleak as she did a moment ago. She happily ignores her so-called friends; _now_ they notice her, looking at her companion and herself with open suspicion.

"Should I ask whether you have any plans for today?" she asks softly, knowing only too well that the holiday season is more painful for him than anything else because of his lost son.

"I don't have any plans, no. What about you, Miss French? If you want to talk about that?"

"I'm supposed to have dinner tonight with Ruby, Emma and Ashley," she says, especially in this time of the year grateful that he understands how she feels with her family still living in Australia. "Ruby is throwing a party to celebrate the old and the new year."

"Supposed to?"

"Well, I might have burned down my kitchen an hour ago."

"Are you all right, Miss French?!" he asks, wincing in sympathy.

"I am, yes, thank you," she replies, unbidden tears almost springing to her eyes in response to his kind concern.

"I could take a look at the damage, if you like. I'm obviously not your landlord, but Mayor Mill's council isn't exactly known for sufficiently handling damage related to public property such as the library."

"I'd like that very much," she says, very much comforted by his silent implication that he'll help to get the repairs along.

She feels better yet when he insists on paying her meal and accepts her hand as she helps him up the steep stairs to her apartment. The burned smell hits her once more as they step inside, but it bothers her more that the rest of her small apartment is messier than she thought.

Belle glances at the landlord, very aware that this is the first time that he sets foot in her home - and that she cares more than she probably should about what he might think of her humble home.

He tries to be discreet, but she notices the way he looks around, his eyes lingering for a fraction of a second on the open door to her bedroom. Rather than having the urge to close it, she quite likes this attention, wishing that she knew what he's thinking.

She's very happy with their tentative friendship, but… well, now that she's gotten to know Mr. Gold the way she has, she can't imagine herself being romantically with anyone other than the wonderfully unassuming, supportive and rather gorgeous landlord.

"Since this property is publicly insured, it's up to the council to arrange for the repairs," he says, retrieving a notebook and beginning to scribble in it. "It won't cost you any money, but I fear that Mayor Mills will draw out the repair process as long as possible. I can… I could pull some strings to speed up the proceedings, if you'd like."

"I… I'd like that very much, Mr. Gold," she splutters, bewildered by his offer. "Very, very much."

"It'd be my pleasure," he simply says, giving her one of those rare, beautiful small smiles.

Her heart warming more than it has done in the entire run-up to this holiday season - and long before that, really - she is reminded that she'd much rather have _his_ friendship than those of the people of her own age and gender in town.

"That won't change the fact that you'll hardly be able to cook here during the holidays, let alone tonight, I'm afraid," he says, his smile falling as if he's truly appalled by that.

"I'll manage," she reassures him, the prospect of not being able to arrive at the diner tonight with a self-made meal - which will raise to yet more eyebrows - not nearly as unpleasant as it was before.

"If you'd like, you could always…"

"What?" she asks when he falters, intrigued.

"Well, I didn't have any plans myself so far, but, if you like… We could cook? At my house? Together?"

"I'd love that!" she exclaims, the whole holiday looking a lot more actually festive now that cooking with Mr. Gold of all people can be included in it.

"We could… if you don't have anything else to do, if you _like_ to of course, we could go grocery shopping right now."

"I can't wait!"

That's how the two of them arrive at his Victorian home at the edge of town in his Cadillac an hour or so later, its boot filled with ingredients to the maximum capacity. Before she can get out of the car, Mr. Gold has done so himself and has opened the door on her side with surprising swiftness.

She takes his offered hand with delight, inwardly marveling at his manners. They pick up the shopping bags together and her amazement increases yet further when she sets foot in his home for the very first time.

Belle isn't nearly as subtle as he was when he was in her house earlier. She can't help but openly stare at the many intriguing treasures which are exhibited on just about every surface, almost as if it's a museum rather than a house.

"Do you like it?" he asks softly, sounding almost shy… and thoroughly pleased.

"I do, very much!"

"You can look around, if you like."

She nods eagerly and does exactly that, deciding that she's going to try to get him to tell the stories behind the countless treasures he keeps here. When he returns a moment later with two glasses of iced tea in his hands and tentatively offers one to her, he does exactly that.

Belle is almost disappointed that it's getting late and that they've still got an elaborate dinner to prepare. But as Mr. Gold dons a black apron, offering her one as well, and they take their positions in his kitchen, she finds that it's yet lovelier to work side by side with him like this.

The landlord turns out to possess a culinary skill far greater than her own. Rather than feeling inferior in comparison, he's got a way of interacting with her which has her learning new things, having _fun_ , rather than being embarrassed by her own lack of expertise in this particular area.

Classical music playing in the background as they work together on creating a more impressive dinner than she has seen all her life, she's getting more into the holiday spirit than she has done in the past few weeks.

There's no chance to linger on the question how it's possible that being with Mr. Gold in his home like this is yet nicer than being bundled up on the couch in her own apartment with one of her favorite books. _Much_ nicer, in fact.

Indeed, it's almost like she's in a fairytale like romance story of her own when the landlord lies down his spatula and gestures at her work. Belatedly, she becomes aware that she was distracted to him by the extent that she was almost chopping her fingers rather than carrots.

"Your technique is a bit…"

"Flawed?" she offers, before she can wonder what it might be like to read a favorite book of hers on one of _Mr. Gold's_ very comfortable looking couches… preferably with the man himself right at her side to drape herself against.

"Well, I wouldn't refer to it like that… Let me show you?"

She nods in agreement. Still, when he slides the carrot into meticulous and identical pieces, all she can think of is just how very elegant his hands are, how strong and deft… how beautiful his profile as he quietly teaches her in a way more unassuming and supportive than she has ever encountered.

"Now you try?" he suggests, handing the knife back to her.

She could have admired him for much longer without getting remotely tired of it, but she obviously can't. Still, she's distracted by her observations of him to the extent that she gets the knife dangerously close to her fingers once more.

Belle barely notices, overwhelmed by the landlord's delicious scent which reaches her nose now that he's standing so close to her to behold her work. He catches her hand just in time, stilling her fingers with the knife in it by resting his on top of them.

"That's not much better I'm afraid, Miss French," he remarks softly, his voice containing a sudden hoarseness which drives her yet further to distraction.

"Perhaps you could…" she brings out, glancing meaningfully at his hand now covering hers.

She doesn't think this would help much for the actual slicing of the vegetable, but suddenly she wants nothing more than to have him close to her for a hands-on demonstration.

"Well, it's a matter of making even movements and…"

His well-intended words are completely lost on her when he tentatively goes to stand behind her, his other hand coming to rest on hers as well as he directs her movement. It leaves her slicing more evenly than she thought she could, but all she's aware of is his body being so wonderfully close to hers.

Trusting him completely, her eyes actually flutter closed when he guides her hands and the sharp knife in one of them. He isn't touching her anywhere else, probably purposefully not leaning into her like she so very much would like him to do. Still, she can feel the heat radiating off his lithe and solid form, the whisper of his breath against the flushed skin of her neck.

"I think it's a huge improvement," she says over his shoulders, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth as he's standing so wonderfully close to her.

She's grinning at him like a fool, but he doesn't seem to care or even notice, smiling fondly at her in return as well. Belle wonders if this could be his way of courting her, of trying to gain her favor as if he doesn't completely have it already… whether it might be a good idea to lean back against him to close the last distance between them.

"It's almost dinner time," he says, stepping away from her, leaving her bereft. "I suppose the party you mentioned must beginning soon, if it hasn't already."

"I suppose," she says, wholly having forgotten why they were cooking together in the first place.

If only she could stay with Mr. Gold, just the way they were until a moment ago.

"You don't want to go?" he asks, almost sounding… hopeful.

"Not really, no," she admits, closely looking at him to see his reaction to her words.

"Well, if you want… you could… there's no way I'll ever be able to eat all of this food on my own. Of course, you're very welcome to stay…"

"I am?!"

"Of course! In fact, I… I'd love to continue to enjoy your delightful company for longer."

"That feeling is entirely mutual."

"In that case… seat yourself and let me serve you?"

She beams at him as she does as she suggests, nodding enthusiastically when he gestures questioningly at a bottle of wine before sending an absent-minded text to Ruby to cancel her appearance at the party.

"I know that we haven't even started this meal yet," he says as he pours her a glass, "but since you won't be able to cook at your home for the next few days… you're very welcome to prepare meals here whenever you like. And eat them here too, of course, if you like."

"There's nothing I'd rather do."

Belle happily watches him as he serves both of them before sitting down next to her at the table. She can't imagine a better ending of this year… or a better beginning of the new one. For as far as she's concerned, she won't ever cook and eat at her apartment again… especially not alone.


End file.
